Pendragon Manor Anthology
by Masked Doll Victoria
Summary: A place for all my Pendragon Manor/Princess Knight verse one shots


There are many paths open to those who follow the path of magic. While some are more likely then others, some easier, some happier. The following is one possible branch of the tree of possibility, one world that exists in a sea of endless places and times. But of all the possible outcomes for those who had forged a bond of trust and love after the fourth Grail War, there are no sad endings. Only varying degrees of happiness tinted with a tinge of sorrow.

* * *

Arturia sat, her battered form held up only by a centuries old tree. Around her, the verdant woods spread eternally, its sylvan glory a sharp contrast to her bloody body. Indeed, death would soon come to the King of Knights, capping a short and brutish life with an ignoble and unceremonious death.

She had once lived for the thousands under her rule, sacrificing her femininity and youth in hopes that she could be the leader she had believed the people had wanted. However, in the end, none of it had mattered. The Reaper had crept to her side quietly under the guise of internal grief and quiet rebellion. Blinded by her own desire for good, she was betrayed by those she trusted most.

In her dying moments she would make a contract with the will of the world itself. In exchange for her playing the role of puppet in a series of unending wars, she would be given a chance to undo what she had saw as her greatest failure. Someone else should have been king, she thought. Then perhaps her beloved country would not be in shambles whiles its citizens were left to wonder what had happened to turn history in such a violent and destructive direction.

It was in one such war that she had been bound to a mercenary of a man who dressed in a manner befitting the taint of his soul. They had clashed at every turn and yet had only talked on three occasions. As awful as a light as she saw herself, the Knight King saw him in one far worse. He was a man that deserved nothing he had. In him she saw the worst of humanity, a curse that extended beyond it's physical host and corrupted all within it's reach

Of all those drowning within the mire of her master's darkness was a woman of the utmost purity. Dressed in constant white, like the first snow of a cold winter morning, she had been used for her entire life. A doll constructed to be filled with the souls of the fallen so that some poor soul may be given their heart's desire, she was yet a human being with her own mind and heart. She had come to love the morose man who had become the father of her child and spent eight long years with him, forming as happy a family as one could under the watchful eye of the patriarch of the Einzbern family.

Arturia's master often bemoaned that he would someday bring death to his beloved, morose and cynical his long life of woe and sacrifice allowed him no other outlook on the situation. And despite this, she had held up his dream that, by winning the Grail War, all of mankind's darkness could be purged from the world. Preventing the tragedies of his youth from befalling anyone ever again. Yet the road to hell is paved with good intentions and it was through dark deeds that he hoped to gain such a victory, using his wife as a decoy to ensure their eventual victory.

Remembering such a time brought a little smirk to Arturia's face. Looking back, that had been the moment her life as a human being had truly began. Living with Irisviel every day. Taking her around town. Even her reckless driving that scared even a woman who had been on the front-lines of dozens of battles, it was all linked together to form a simple yet satisfying life that she had thought lost to the days before she had pulled the Caliburn from it's stone and with it cast off the last vestiges of her humanity.

A part of her longed for that feeling to last forever and, in the end, it was that wish that was granted that fated day when the fourth Holy Grail war came to an end.

Between this reality and the next, lays a place where those of great honor and courage lay to rest upon the loosing of their lives from the mortal coil. A place where verdant fields stretch as far as the eye can see and the sun is always shining in the day and at night, the only noise remains the beating of one's own heart and the gentle hum of insects wafting upon a cool breeze. A haven for heroes and kings of the highest caliber it was only fitting that the greatest of Britain's heroes had come to rest here.

Like the days of her youth, before for her ascension to the throne, she lived every day in a simple manner. Raising early in the morning, carrying on chores, and simply enjoying the peaceful atmosphere that had long eluded her in life. But it was a somewhat lonely existence, for much like she was King, she lacked a special person at her side. All the peace in the world could not change the fact that she was lonely in this most holy of places. For what seemed like forever she had lived on in the vein hope that someone would come looking for her and break the spell which had been cast upon her the day she had finally succumbed to the dark embrace of the abyss.

Before she had passed on, she had spoken at length with the elder mystic of Camelot, a wizened old man known just as well for his trickery as his magical prowess, as to what it would take to be rejoined with her beloved for all times.

"You must wait eternally. The old Magus spoke. "While they must eternally chase, only then will your dreams come to fruition."

Cryptic as always, the confusing prophecy had given her hope that should would not be alone for all eternity. As the old man had said, she had waited in this land where time had no meaning. And she would wait for all times if she had to. Such was the devotion of the King of Knights to her beloved.

"Even if it takes the rest of eternity. I will wait for you." She often spoke before bed every night.

* * *

The last days of the Pendragon manor had been happy ones, without the threat of war and bloodshed hovering upon their brows, the patch-work family she had crafted for herself once more knew the din of peace. The children, who had fought so hard for those they loved, and those they had grown to love as the fifth war raged like a all-consuming flame across Fuyuki City, resumed going to school and living as normal children do. The revelations the war had brought unable to impede the happiness they had collectively shared. Arturia, who had spent two weeks juggling fighting, work, and protecting her family, was the only one among them who had come out of the war worse to wear.

For a few months, it seems as if she had simply worked herself far to hard in the name of protecting all that was near and dear to her. But as time passed, however, she didn't recover. The conflict had taken it's toll, no matter how much mana she could acquire, she would lose it just as quickly. Weak and barely able to walk, she was forced to stay home despite the eternal drive to work on her family's behalf. Homebound, she retained training local children in the way of the sword and the chivalrous code that she had held for all her life.

For those she loved, it was a sad sight indeed, to see a woman who had fought, and nearly won, two Grail Wars reduced barely being able to walk without assistance,. They all knew what would happen soon, with no more manna to sustain her existence in this world, the King of Knights would return whence she came and pass onto the realm of the dead as we all eventually do. For months the Pendragon Manor lay under a thick cloud of unease and discontent. None within it's walls wished to see a beloved mother, wife, and friend pass on. But there was simply nothing that could be done.

Soon soon there after, Arturia, no longer able to move at all and bedridden for the better part of a month, resigned to her fate.

"Irisviel..." She called to her beloved. "Please, could you do one last thing for me?"

"Anything!" Irisviel cried into her wife's waiting hand.

"The command seals. If you would relinquish them..."

"Arturia..."

Irisviel gazed upon the intricate pattern that had adorned the back of her left hand for nearly a decade. Forged in the grief-ridden moments just after the end of the fourth Grail War. They were both a contract and reminder of all she had gone through to sustain the her family and the small existence they shared in the corner of a sleepy little corner of Japan.

"Are you sure?" Irisviel sheepishly asked.

"Yes...and call for the children."

"All right."

Fetching Illya and Shirou, Irisviel quietly explained what would happen to their second mother. There was much denial, wailing, crying, and bargaining among them that afternoon, as Shirou's gentle soul attempted to reconcile a world without his beloved mother and teacher. Illya, who had never been as close to Arturia as Shirou or her mother, quietly wept in her own manner. The former servant Saber had been the reason she had been able to come home to a happy family. Seeing Arturia go was a far sadder even then she had ever imagined.

As Irisviel led the children into the small bedroom where their mother lay as if dying, Shirou almost instantly burst into tears as he sat at Arturia's side with his face awash in a torrent of tears.

"Are you really leaving us...?" He sniffled.

"Shirou..." Arturia, using what little strength she had left, moved her left hand and caressed Shirou's beat-red face. "You've grown up to be the finest son a mother could ever ask for and had you lived whence I came, you would have been the grandest knight in all the lands."

Shirou blushed. His mother, always harder on him during his training then in everyday life, had never complimented him to such a degree before.

"But you have to promise me, that when I'm gone, you'll take care of your mother, sister, and that girlfriend of yours. As the man of the house, this will be your responsibility and yours alone."

He nodded.

"Good. I'll be able to rest easy knowing everything is in your capable hands."

By then, Illya had joined her brother at their mother's side. Though incapable of the level of emotion Shirou had shown at the event, she wept nonetheless.

"And Illyasviel, I know we didn't see eye-to-eye on everything, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You are a soul as strong and as free as your mother, I'm sure you'll go onto to do something great."

She patted the short, white-haired girl on the head as she often had done when Illya was younger.

"I'll do my best." Illya cheerfully quiped.

"I know you will." Her mother answered.

"Irisviel come closer..." The knight of knights drifted off, sounding rather grim in tone.

The pale homunculus did just that, attending to her fallen wife's side with the utmost reverence.

"I'm so sorry to leave you like this. This makes the second time you've lost the person closest to you. I've broken the promise I made to be at your side forever, and this will remain the biggest regret of my life. But I promise you, things will be fine. You've raised two wonderful children and carried this family through a Grail War and worse. I know you can do it."

Irisviel to began to cry. A mixture of abject sadness and a small glimmer of hope, not since the day she had learned that Kiritsugu had passed on had she been so devastated.

"What's going to happen to you?" Irisviel said through her tears."

"I will likely return to whence I came before the war and then to the place where all heroic souls go to rest, at least, if the gods will it that is."

Irisviel smiled, there was no doubt in her mind that Arturia had lived a life worthy of a place in paradise.

"Now, if you would relinquish the command seals and end our contract..."

Irisviel nodded. In a flash of light, the emblem that had lay upon her hand disappeared in a hail of light and sparks. Soon after, Arturia would follow suit, her body no longer anchored to the modern world, began to fade into a outline of her former self, embracing her family as she did. Spending her last moments as she had every moment of the last decade.

And just as she had came into this world, the King of Knights left in a burst of magical energy and light. All involved wept aloud for their beloved. Nothing was harder then losing those you loved most. And yet, life in the manor continued. Though Irisviel slept for several days due to the exhaustion and depression of losing Arturia, within a number of weeks she once more returned to her duties as a mother, cooking food every day and cleaning the house as she always had. Her beloved had asked so gently of them all to keep living, and that was a promise she never intended to break.

* * *

One morning, as the sun rose in the east as it always and birds chirped to signal the beginning of a new day, Arturia rose to a strange feeling hanging over her blonde head. Something of great magical power had arrived in the land of Avalon that day, tinged with the taint of wishcraft and darkness that radiated through all Grail-connected beings, she, for the first time in an amount of time she could no longer recall, with drew the holy sword from it's place over the mantle and left the small cottage she called home prepared for battle.

Outside, in the idyllic setting of rolling fields and stern trees, a figure stood on the horizon. Radiating no malice or hate, rather they seemed confused and disoriented. Only those among humanity of the highest regard and utmost purity could enter the fairyland of Avalon upon their death, making it a place unstained by the hands of evil and darkness. Thus only the good and just ever appeared in this place.

"Hello? Prey tell who are thee?" Arturia asked, lapsing into the old accent she had in the day's of her youth.

There was no answer, the figure seemed more content to watch the birds flying over head then listen to the knight's cries. One so flighty, Arturia thought to herself, almost like...

She began to run to the hill where the figure sat, her mind and heart racing with a mixture of fear and hope as to who this new visitor maybe. And as she closed the distance between them, hope one in the end. For clad in a dress of the purest white and sporting eyes as red as the setting sun stood the woman she had meant more to her then anything in all the world.

"Irisviel...?" Arturia called from several feet away, intruding upon Irisviel's moment of birdwatching.

"Arturia?" Irisviel said, gently tilting her head to the side. She had been just as confused as Arturia about the matter.

"It's really you." Arturia said short of breath from her sprint. "You've come back to me."

Walking to her lover and holding her tear stained face to her chest, Irisviel stroked Arturia's hair in a gentle manner.

"I don't know how this happened, or what I have done to deserve the honor of being at your side once more. But this is a miracle we should not question. The gods have willed that we be together, and that is all that matters."

The same Irisviel, gentle and pure yet tinged with a small side of child-like wonder.

"Things will be all right from now on, all right?" Irisviel reassured her beloved.

"Yes..."

The seriousness of the moment was soon interuppted by Arturia rumbling stomach, which roared as if knowing the provider of the best of meals had returned.

"Oh my!" Irisviel giggled. "I cannot even begin to imagine how you've been feeding yourself without me around."

"Well...I've sustained myself on a diet of stew, meat, and vegetables..."

"I'll have none of that." Irisviel interrupted. "Lets get back home and I'll make the two of us a nice dinner, all right?"

"Of course."

As if it had never left, the spirit of those old and happy days hung around the two lovers as they returned to the small house Arturia now called home. For that night, and every night after, Irisviel would cook for her beloved and there was no sadness in the House of Pendragon forever more.


End file.
